“Why don’t you take them in the back yard, Kate,” my mom suggested. “They’ve been dying to see you and that way I can get lunch on the table without stepping on them.”
“Sure,” I said. I had officially been kicked out of the kitchen. It was no secret that Emily was better at the domesticated woman stuff than me and I suspected my mother was tired of hovering over my shoulder to make sure I did everything just right.
“Laney, Addy! Come outside with me!”
I started walking toward the back door and they abandoned their plight to steal leftover marshmallows and followed me. I knew they would. I was an awesome aunt.
We stepped into the sunny but cool afternoon and I glanced at them to make sure they still had their jackets on.
My parents had a small back yard, longer than it was wide and sandwiched between two identical lawns on either side. The yard was bordered by a chain link fence that had been replicated down the line in either direction. There was a satellite that hung on the back of the fence and a garden my mother worked tirelessly on that stretched from one side of the yard to the other. They had a short deck that held their grill and on the patio beneath, a covered swing that would fit the three of us perfectly.
I grew up in this house. My parents were both born and bred Chicagoans and they made sure their children had the same fate.
It was one of the things I was most grateful for. I loved this city. I loved its pretty architecture and bustling downtown. I loved my parents’ neighborhood and my neighborhood and the specific feel of it just being home. I loved Lake Michigan. I loved the tourist traps and the shopping. I loved the food scene. And the music scene. I loved everything about this city.
My parents’ house hadn’t changed much since I was a kid. They’d taken down the rickety metal swing set Josh and I grew up with, but only so they could replace it with safer outdoor toys for the girls. There was a sandbox now where I used to swing and a lone plastic slide that the girls barely played with anymore. They were getting too big.
Delaney was eight and Addison was five. I knew Josh and Emily were done having kids so I wondered if my parents planned to keep those toys or get rid of them. I obviously wasn’t going to be fulfilling my portion of grandkids for them.
“Auntie Kate, push us!” Addy demanded sweetly.
I dug my toes into the cement and pushed off so hard the swing rocked back and forth on its legs. The girls giggled uncontrollably as we forced the swing as high and fast as it could go.
I was just convinced I was going to have to buy my mom a new swing, because we were on the verge of breaking hers, when Emily poked her head out the back door and called us in for lunch.
The girls jumped off and raced inside, acting as if they’d never been fed before. I moved more slowly. It had been such a breath of fresh air to play with my nieces, but they often left a gaping hole in the place that wanted kids of my own.
Emily waited for me at the door and I noticed her nervous smile as soon as I stepped onto the deck.
“What’s wrong?” I asked carefully.
“Your parents did something really stupid,” she whispered. “I’m so sorry. I would have warned you sooner if I had known.”
“What did they do?” Panic and fear blinded me. I thought back on all of the other stupid things they’d done throughout the years and could only imagine how bad it was this time if Emily had come out to warn me.
“Nick is here,” she whispered.
“What?” My voice was not a whisper. It was half shriek, half demonic growl. I couldn’t even imagine why he would be over here. I couldn’t imagine any scenario in which my parents would invite him over. “Oh, my god. The sweet potato casserole.”
Emily placed a warm hand on my shoulder. “I’m so sorry. I don’t know what they were thinking.”
“They obviously weren’t,” I snapped, then immediately felt bad. “I’m sorry,” I winced. “It’s just… this is the very worst possible time for me to see him again.”
I closed my eyes and remembered our Friday night together. I felt his lips on my temple, kissing me goodnight. I blinked and pictured us screaming at each other across the house, pissed and unforgiving and oh so broken. I pictured the last night we fought, as he picked up his pillow and left me on the bed… left me for months without a word.
I pictured him at the grocery store, lost… lost without me… lost in a new existence that neither of us anticipated.
I did not need to see Nick right now. I needed as much time and separation as I could get from him. The only thing lunch would do was confuse me more. And we would have to be so fake. It’s not like we could hash out our years of issues in front of my parents and my brother and his perfect freaking family.
I looked at the backyard and contemplated my escape.
“Are you really going to run away?”
I could tell Emily was laughing at me, but this was so much more serious than she realized.
“I was thinking about it.” I let out an aggravated sigh.
“Emily and Kate, the food is getting cold!” My mother’s voice sounded shrill and irritated through the house.
I looked at Emily, hoping she would have a solution. “It’s just one lunch,” she shrugged. She held the door open wider and I stepped through it, knowing there was no way to avoid the impending train wreck.
I breathed deeply and made it to the dining room, where I stopped breathing altogether.
Sure enough, Nick was there.
Our eyes locked and I could feel his uncertainty pulsing off him in waves. He stood when he saw me, pushing back from the chair and making an awkward gesture of helplessness with his hands.
His smile was nervous and he looked as nice as he did the other day. Another oxford, this one a deep gray that brought out the blue in his eyes.
“What are you doing-” I had just about asked him why he was here, but he was right when he accused me of always being surprised to see him.
Even though this time I felt justified.
I started to wonder if I really did expect that he would stop living after I left him. Not that I wanted him to die, I just couldn’t imagine his story apart from mine. I couldn’t picture him in a life that didn’t include me or a future that didn’t revolve around me.
Did that make me the most self-absorbed person in the world?
Nick’s lips twitched tellingly from obvious nerves. “I called your dad last week to see if I could pick up the amps we’d stored in his garage.”
“I forgot about those.” I cut a look to my dad, who was stalwartly avoiding eye contact with me.
“I knew we’d be home today,” my dad told his roast chicken.
“I invited him to lunch,” my mother declared. I looked at her, my eyes bugging out of my head. “What?” she gasped innocently. “Just because you no longer want the boy, doesn’t mean we’re ready to give him up. He’s our son. We miss him.”
Their son???
They missed him? They couldn’t stand him!
I turned back to Nick with wide eyes, expecting him to be as skeptical of my parents as I was. But his gaze had narrowed and his smile had turned into a hard line.
“I’m sorry,” I told him sincerely.
“You have nothing to be sorry about,” he answered curtly.
“Sit down,” my father demanded. “The food’s getting cold.”
I did as I was told, which meant I took the seat next to Nick. It was convenient how that was the only one left open.
We started to pass the food around the table and conversation began, but it was stilted and forced. My entire body prickled with unease. It was one thing to face Nick in my house, away from other people and prying eyes. But it was something else entirely to be on display in front of my family.
I felt their judgment skyrocket. I felt my own guilt triple. It was so stupid. I shouldn’t have to deal with this!
When everyone but Nick and I was engaged in conversation, he leaned in and murmured, “You don’t have
to throw a temper tantrum. I won’t bother you for long.”
I gave him a fast glare and refocused on tearing my biscuit to shreds. “I’m not throwing a temper tantrum.”
“Oh, really?” his chuckle was dark and without humor.
“Why do you need your amps? I thought you didn’t like their sound?”
He stabbed at his chicken with his fork and knife, sawing them savagely. “Is it a crime to come over to your parents’ house? To get my stuff?”
“Stop avoiding the question.”
“Stop acting like a three-year-old.”
That was it. The last straw. My chair scratched over the wood flooring as I pushed back and jumped up from my seat. I fled for the door, ignoring the protests and frustrated calls of my name. I had to get out of here.
I couldn’t do this.
I couldn’t be us again.
I grabbed my purse off the couch and let the screen door slam shut behind me. It snapped against the frame for a second time when Nick followed me outside.
“Kate, are you serious?”
I whirled around and tried to breathe through my anger. “Nick, are you?”
“What is your problem! I thought we were cool. Friday night we-”
My eyes flooded with tears and I wasn’t sure why. “Don’t,” I whispered.
He took a step back. His hand had been reaching out to me and he dropped it. “You’re serious,” he said.
“I can’t do this. I can’t have you here with my parents, acting as if nothing’s wrong. As if we’re fine and normal and not in the middle of a divorce.”
“We’re not in the middle of a divorce,” he bit out. “We’re separated, Kate. Neither of us has filed. Neither of us has to file.”
“What?” The breath whooshed out of me and for a second I didn’t think I’d be able to stay standing.
“You heard me.” He lifted his jaw defiantly and narrowed his gaze again.
For a hysterical second I thought he was going to dare me not to divorce him. As if all I needed was the challenge of making us work and I would forget about wanting to leave him.
As if I would take his dare.
As if it were that easy.
“Did you even need your amps?” I took a step toward him, not sure what I was going to do or say. Part of me wanted to shake him. The other part wanted to collapse in his arms and tell him he was right. So. Right. “Was this just an excuse to see me again?”
He returned my question with one of his own. “Why are you so hell bent on leaving me? Is this about having a baby? Kate, I-”
My heart jumped in my chest and then crashed back into place, only this time it was shattered into a million pieces. “Don’t,” I begged him with a broken, desperate voice. “Don’t.” A tearless, silent sob shook my entire body and I had to hold my hand to my face to keep from completely falling apart. “Nick, this,” I flicked my finger between us, “is what this is about. Not kids, not my parents not any other reason than we cannot get along. When we’re together, we’re miserable. I’m tired of being miserable.”
“We weren’t the other night,” he quickly reminded me. “We weren’t miserable.”
“That was one night! One! What about all of the other nights? What about all of the other days and fights and years of not getting along? I’m not trying to hurt you. Or, at least, not intentionally. I’m trying to give you a chance to find happiness somewhere else.”
“Because you want to find happiness somewhere else.”
I could have argued with him. I could have sworn that it wasn’t entirely about me, that I wanted us both to be better off, that I was thinking of him as much as I was myself. But I didn’t.
Instead, I let him believe it. I let him think the worst of me.
I let him decide that I wasn’t worth fighting for.
“I have to go,” I whispered.
He didn’t say anything. He didn’t argue and he didn’t come after me again.
I got in my car and drove away. I didn’t last one block before I started crying again, before the tears and pain became so much I had to pull over and cave into the pressure in my chest and the sobs that racked my entire body.
Eventually, I stopped crying. Eventually, I stopped shaking. But when I got home, I didn’t feel any better. And when I crawled into my empty bed that night, it started all over again.
I didn’t go to family dinner for the rest of the month.
Chapter Eleven
18. He can’t let go.
I slumped against the doorframe to Kara’s office and dropped my bag to my feet. She looked up at me from where she stood over her desk examining some papers and frowned at me.
Unlike the rest of the school, Kara’s office was warmly lit and smelled like heaven. She burned candles all year round, despite the fact that they were against school policy. Mr. Kellar let her get away with it because she argued that her students needed to feel safe and comfortable. He apparently agreed, because he never said anything to her except when there was an inspection.
“You look like shit.”
I glared at her. “Thank you.”
“What happened?” Her voice softened to gentle concern.
“Don’t ever get married. It’s not worth it.”
Her lips pursed and her shoulders straightened. “I wasn’t planning on it, but thanks for the advice anyway.”
I couldn’t tell if I offended her or not. She wasn’t married, she wasn’t even dating, but that wasn’t because there was something wrong with her. She was hot, successful in her own right and the best person I knew. She wasn’t with someone because she chose not to be.
I had always thought of her as the quintessential empowered woman. But there was something in her expression just now… something I couldn’t read.
I walked in and collapsed in one of her comfy chairs that sat in front of the desk. She hadn’t invited me, but I was too miserable to care.
“You don’t have a meeting or anything, do you?”
Her expression shifted to careful consideration and I wondered if she was going to bill me for my time. “Not for a few minutes. What’s going on?” This time I heard real concern in her voice. She had gone home to visit her family over the weekend, so we hadn’t spoken since after school on Friday. She didn’t know about all of my Nick drama and I was finding myself reluctant to share it with her.
I didn’t want to burden her with more of my depression, plus I was fairly certain she was as sick of hearing about my woes as I was. But I also couldn’t get myself to speak the truth out loud. I didn’t want to tell her about my Friday night with Nick because I wanted to keep that for me… I wanted to keep it special and untainted by snarky analysis.
I didn’t want her to point out the possible obvious- that Nick didn’t want to go through with the divorce. And I didn’t want her asking questions to find out if maybe I didn’t either.
There was too much past… too much history for us to ever be really happy moving forward. We just needed to cut this cord and move on.
“I saw the divorce lawyer this morning,” I confessed.
I watched her shoulders sag and her mouth turn down in a frown. “Is that where you were?”
“I took the morning. I couldn’t wait any longer.” I picked at the frayed threads on the arm of the chair. “My parents invited Nick over to Sunday dinner yesterday. Things got a little out of control.”
Her eyebrows shot up and her palms slapped the desk. “They did what?”
“Apparently they miss him.”
“They hate him!”
“Apparently they only hate me.”
She waved a dismissive hand. “Trust me, they don’t. My parents hate me. Yours love you. Maybe too much, but they definitely love you.”
I blinked at her, unsure if she was serious or not. Kara kept much of her home life to herself. She shared everything else, though, so I had never wanted to pry. I hadn’t even met her parents before. It wasn’t like college where most of my friends’ paren
ts either came to visit or hosted a group of us for a long weekend. Since I hadn’t met Kara until our professional lives, there had been no reason to meet her family. I had never thought anything of it. She had only met mine a couple times over the years.
I tilted my chin mulishly, “If they loved me, they would not have invited my ex-husband to dinner. That’s not love. That’s torture.”
“He’s not your ex-husband yet,” she said with an obvious amount of patience in her tone. “Maybe they were trying to get you back together? Maybe they don’t hate him as much as you thought they did.”
“They were part of the problem! They made things so difficult for us! We constantly fought about them. I had to drag Nick over there. He would put up such attitude every Sunday that I always felt like the bad guy. And then my mom! God, my mom can be such a brat. She would make me feel like the worst kind of human for marrying him. Now… now they want to play nice? It’s not fair!”
She didn’t say anything for a long time. I got the feeling she didn’t know what to say.
“I’m just frustrated,” I sighed. “It’s not like I can say all of this to my mom. She’ll take it like I’m blaming her for my divorce and I’m not. There were so many more issues besides that one. But they were a problem. A weekly problem. Sometimes more.”
“If Nick hated it so much, and it sounds like you hated it too, then why did you guys keep going over there every single Sunday? That seems excessive.”
I felt like a boulder dropped in my stomach and upset everything inside me, as if I was a puddle and the boulder threw up everything that made me in a fast, draining wave until I was nothing but emptiness and gritty earth. “Because that’s what my parents expected us to do.” But my explanation sounded so weak now.
“But, Kate, why didn’t you guys just go once a month? Or every other week?”
I sat in stunned silence. Why didn’t we? Why hadn’t we set up better boundaries for our extended family? I didn’t want to deal with my mom anymore than Nick did. So why had I tortured us week after week? Why had I let Nick be talked to like that every single Sunday? Why had I purposefully driven a wedge between us over my family?
Every Wrong Reason Page 12